


Linked Touches

by fcllencngels



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Canon, Happy Ending, Implied abuse, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon, SHEITH - Freeform, Sheithletines 2018, Soulmark AU, Sweaters, honestly just a big mess, pre-kerberos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 12:48:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13718007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fcllencngels/pseuds/fcllencngels
Summary: Somewhere along the line, somewhere between this planet and the next, Keith Kogane fell in love with Shiro all over again.





	Linked Touches

**Author's Note:**

> Hahhahahahahahah hi im back 
> 
> This is my Sheithletines 2018 gift for [Lillie](https://http://earlofgrey.tumblr.com). I know it's not something explicitly stated in your wishlist, and I know it kinda sucks but fingers crossed that you still like it?
> 
> Thanks to my Sheith discord for being a constant reminder that I need to do this and Min for betaing this because it was absolutely terrible before.
> 
> As always, thanks for any kudos, comments, or subscriptions you guys leave!

Keith had never allowed anyone to touch him.

 

After years at the orphanage, he had withdrawn from everyone and everything, preferring to hide away in his room where no one would bother him about anything, let alone soulmates.

 

All the other kids scampered around, touching, looking. After all, once they found their soulmate, they could get away from the cracked walls and leaking ceilings. Away from the matron that barely fed them and gave them scraps for clothes. He had followed these people once, watching as they nudged at bare hands, wrists, any patch of skin in sight.

 

But Keith was different. Soulmates to him were a terrible, foreign idea, and he could barely stand it when he watched the colors blossom against someone’s skin, terrible, beautiful lights reminding him of shouting, yelling, tears, bruises glowing purple against his skin.

 

After all, those were the only marks he would ever receive.

 

It didn’t matter after all. People died without ever meeting their soulmates, their skin unmarked and beautiful in their own innocent type of way. Keith stood looking at himself in the mirror sometimes, imagining a smudge of color against his skin where someone would touch him.

 

The thought made him throw up.

 

But years later, years and years, he cried as he looked at himself in the mirror, beautiful purple marks decorating his collarbone. They were nothing like the marks he had received in his youth - rather they were delicate, the color smooth against Keith’s skin, and warm to the touch. Closing his eyes, he could imagine it all over again. Shiro, grabbing his shoulder after a workout, then his lips, pressing against Keith’s own oh so slowly, and Keith had pulled away, the very core of his soul shaken.

 

But now, memories and colors against his skin were the only thing to remind him of the past, a happier time, when someone’s soul had bonded with his own. 

 

Why?

 

Shiro was gone. 

 

* * *

Getting kicked out of the Garrison was an accident. 

 

It was blazing hot, and the sunlight streaming through Keith’s dorm window was warm enough to burn skin. With tired steps, Keith had wandered into the bathroom.

 

It was another sleepless night and the Keith had tossed and turned in his bed, choking down sobs as two words repeated like a chant over and over, increasing in volume. 

 

_ ‘pilot error, Pilot Error, PILOT ERROR’ _

 

Keith barely felt the pain as his hand slammed into the mirror hanging in front of him. 

 

The glass cracked, and Keith groaned in annoyance as he pulled his hand away, replacing the debris with his toothbrush as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. 

He was broken. Broken and lost, the fading lavender across his collarbone serving only as a reminder that he was alone. 

 

It took him ten minutes to finally leave the confines of his bathroom, a hasty post-it note taped onto the broken glass for his roommate that never bothered stopping by unless the officers were doing cleanliness checks. 

 

It takes him another ten minutes to get dressed and walk to the mess hall. When he steps in line, it’s as if he’s invisible, and even the staff stops their chatter as he walks by, his tray extended to take whatever glop they press onto his plate.

 

Once people had run up to him, clapping him on the back for his test scores, his latest simulation, or because Shiro was with him, but after one particularly explosive night, fueled by the looks of pity around him, the Garrison treats him like an anomaly that no one cared to touch. 

 

It’s still better than the apologetic glances every time Shiro’s name comes up. 

 

It’s Wednesday, and with the exception of some seniors, there’s barely any classes, so Keith makes his way back to his dorm, stopping only when he can hear a girl’s giggles through the door. 

 

It strikes him then that it’s Valentine's’ Day, and the reason why tacky desert flowers are found outside so many dorm rooms are because the Garrison students are hard at work, trying desperately to please their significant other with trashy gifts found from local tourist shops. 

 

He’s not sure what fuels him - anger maybe? Sadness? Longing? - and that moment is when he slams the door open and punches his roommate in the face. 

 

The crunching sounds that erupt under his knuckles are strangely calming.

 

It’s not the worst thing he’s done, but it’s the final straw and six hours later, Iverson watches him walk out of the compound, boots grinding into the dirt defiantly  
  


 

* * *

A bright light in the sky and only an itching suspicion is enough for Keith to hop onto his hoverbike and speed towards the Garrison. 

 

It’s been a while since he’s returned - he went back once to scavenge in the cafeteria but the food choice was abysmal and he was sure that Montgomery had seen him but let him go - and as the desert landscape slips away under his boots, he finds the voice in his head urging him on. 

 

Keith had supposed that he had gone insane. It wasn’t uncommon for those who lost their soulmates, but Keith had always thought that he was better than that, stronger than that, but there’s a lot of things that Shiro’s disappearance have taught him. 

 

The voice in his head is reassuring as he approaches the crash site, and the sight of Garrison doctors already swarming around a temporary structure crafted nearby sparks Keith’s curiosity. 

 

What are they hiding?

 

Rummaging around his pockets produces a fist sized explosive, and Keith stares at it before shrugging. 

 

It’ll be good enough. 

 

When the bomb detonates, Keith watches as staff rushes away, allowing Keith enough time to slip in. 

 

Doctors come rushing towards him, but it’s seconds before they’re useless, and Keith can’t believe his eyes. 

 

It’s Shiro. 

 

Shiro is limp as Keith pulls him up, and even as some other cadet runs into the room and taunts him, Keith can ignore him because the warmth underneath his fingertips is familiar, and the joy beats in his chest like a drum, silencing any paranoia about the Garrison.

 

Shiro’s home, and Keith’s heart is going to explode, and the voice in his head seems equally pleased.

 

* * *

Keith quickly learns two things about this Shiro. 

 

  1. The sight of Keith waking up in one of his sweaters makes his face distort in a way Keith hadn’t known was possible. 



 

Keith has exactly two boxes worth of stuff, and one is Shiro’s, filled to the brim with sweater vests and shirts that Matt had clearly bought since Keith knows that Shiro would never buy something that would stick so close to his skin. 

 

But Shiro is wearing one of those shirts now, a grey, long-sleeve nonsensical shirt, with one of those abysmal sweater vests, and when Keith stirs from his chair in the corner of the bedroom, he meets Shiro’s eyes.

 

He realizes then that he’s wearing one of Shiro’s abysmal sweaters, a worn out thing he found long ago, and it was most likely the reason why Shiro was staring at him with a shocked glance. 

 

  1. This Shiro hates his arm, but to be fair, Keith hates it too, especially since he knows it’s replacing the one that touched him so tenderly. 



 

It’s most likely the reason why Shiro sticks to wearing long sleeves, and Keith wonders if the metal prosthetic could feel, be human, and touch him the same way Shiro had before.

 

Keith supposes it makes sense now that his soulmark had disappeared. 

 

It’s not Shiro. Not his Shiro at least. 

 

He tries, still, because even though  it’s clear that this isn’t his Shiro, the pieces are still there, and Keith falls victim to the soft smiles and brief glances he’s offered, echoes of  _ his _ Shiro. 

 

It’s not so bad, to live a life besides this new Shiro, being his right-hand man inside and outside the cockpit, and Keith thinks that this could be enough, that maybe he can survive like this. 

 

Maybe. 

 

* * *

Space is everything Keith imagined it to be. 

 

Being a paladin wasn’t something that he expected, but it’s something that he enjoys, and as they travel the universe, Keith speeding along in Red, he thinks that maybe even if his skin is never decorated with any sort of color again, he could be content among exploding supernovas and distant planets. 

 

It doesn’t hurt that he’s slowly relearning everything he knows about Shiro. 

 

Keith is careful, and he never lets Shiro touch him unless it’s through the careful protection of his armor or jacket, and Shiro never touches him unless Keith’s earned it, and more times than not, Keith feels the touch of cool metal as Shiro’s prosthetic balances on his shoulder. 

 

Keith wonders if the alien arm could still mark him as Shiro’s. 

 

He hopes not. 

 

So Keith stays silent, his smiles for Shiro alone, and mission after mission, planet after planet, he thinks that everything is fine, that there was nothing left on Earth for him anyway, that he could be happy.

 

Then, Shiro goes missing again. 

 

Abandonment should be something Keith is familiar with at this point, but when it comes to Shiro, it settles uncomfortably in his gut, as if it’s a time bomb, just waiting to split Keith into pieces. 

 

Sometimes it feels as if the others don’t care and Keith wants to scream in desperation as he watches members of the coalition move on with their lives, move on with the war, move on without their leader. 

 

_ “Can’t you see he’s gone?” Keith shouts into the void. “Can’t you see Shiro’s gone?” _

 

No one answers, and when Keith finds himself seated in  _ Shiro’s _ spot, with  _ Shiro’s _ lion, with the scent of Shiro all around him, Keith thinks that maybe somewhere along the line, he fell in love with Takashi Shirogane, a boy who was swallowed up by the stars far too many times. 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s months before Shiro comes back. 

 

Keith wants to cry, wants to grab Shiro’s hand and press it against his chest and watch as purple blossoms against his skin and show Shiro that Keith is his, that they’ve always been destined for each other even after all these years. 

 

Instead he lets Shiro rest in his room, spitting nonsense about the team. Shiro is silent, and Keith draws himself back, away from Shiro’s haggard form and long hair and unshaven beard. Keith knows it’s different this time, and unlike the first time Shiro came back, Keith forces himself to give Shiro space.

 

He knows that Shiro doesn’t remember them, but he nudges Shiro anyway, hoping for a reaction, for anything.

 

“They need you, you know.”

 

_ “I need you.” Keith wants to say. _

 

Shiro’s response is as sparse as his presence, and Keith turns to leave, confessions ready to spill from his lips.

 

When Shiro’s voice calls back to him, he holds back his own neediness. 

 

“How many times are you going to save me before this is over?” Shiro asks, his voice raspy, and Keith turns with a sad smile. 

 

He doesn’t even have to think twice about his answer because for him, Shiro is everything - the sun and the stars and the oxygen giving him life - and his voice is surprisingly steady as he rests his hand on the door frame, taking in the lines and curves of everything that is Shiro.

 

Did Shiro even need to ask?

 

“As many times as it takes.”

 

* * *

Keith leaves the paladins. 

 

It’s not necessarily his choice, but at the same time, it is. After seeing the team back together, and Black cruising along in Shiro’s hands, Keith did what he does best. 

 

He had told Lance to leave the math to Pidge, but deep down inside, he had already known what he needed to do. 

 

He disguises it as something he needs to do, as if he’ll die if he doesn’t leave (and a small part of him reminds him that he’ll die even if he does). Shiro is the first one there, their hands clasped through their uniforms and Keith’s face pressed into the hard curve of Shiro’s armor.

 

It’s frightening when the team swarms around him, enveloping him in a hug, and for a second, Keith wonders if he’s making the right choice, if he should leave, leave them, leave Shiro, but he still walks off the bridge like a man sentenced to execution. 

 

It’s not that the Blades are terrible - Keith has actually learned the difference between Kolivan’s lecturing and his caring rebukes - it’s just that somewhere along the way, Voltron had become his family, more than the Blades who were supposed to be. 

 

And he misses Shiro. 

 

The first time he sees them again is through a fuzzy hologram as they plan their attack on Naxzela, and Keith is standing on a box to match Kolivan’s height, but he ignores the burning loss of pride when he sees Shiro. 

 

Shiro looks good. Really good. Good enough to turn Keith into a thirsting teenager . 

 

It’s like Kolivan can read his mind, and when the box underneath him gets a kick in warning, Keith doesn’t even regret it.

 

* * *

Kolivan told him. 

 

Mission before self. 

 

But as Keith braced for the incoming impact, he wondered why Shiro was still on his mind. 

 

How was it that in the span of mere minutes the adrenaline pumping through him from the Galran outpost soured, and as the brightness of the Galran cruiser came closer and closer, he reached up, fingers pressing against the pale splotch on his collarbone, guarded by the tight Blade suit. 

 

He prays in that moment, prays to anyone listening, asking, begging that Shiro would not grieve for him, that Shiro would never feel the heart-clenching pain and misery that enwrapped Keith back at the Garrison. 

 

It’s in the last second, he asks - asks to live, to survive so that he can press himself against Shiro tightly and tell him the truth, that Keith loves him, has always loved him. 

 

By some miracle, he survives.

 

* * *

Shiro yells at him after the mission. 

 

Keith expects it. 

 

Keith knows that Shiro’s not actually angry, that it’s the panic and fear causing him to lash out in the only way he knows he can.

 

It ends with Keith crushed against Shiro’s chest, and Keith forces himself not to react, not to do anything because even letting out a shaky breath would reveal too much, too much of everything he’s been hiding these past few years in space. 

 

“I won’t do it again.” Keith promises, and he means it because as he stands there with Shiro’s arms wrapped around him, Keith is suddenly very happy to be alive. 

 

He reminds himself of the promise he made, and he closes his eyes.

 

He can tell Shiro next time.

 

* * *

Somehow, next time is pushed farther and farther back.

 

Somewhere along the line, Lance received a soulmark, bright against his hip.

 

Keith questions what exactly was going on when he received it, making Lance splutter angrily, red-faced as he spits something about annoying mullets. Keith cracks a smile as he leans back against the couch, Pidge looking at him knowingly. Lance is still spitting insults when Shiro walks into the room.

 

Allura is by his side, and they’re leaned over a tablet in Allura’s hand, and for a moment, Keith understands why the rumors are so believable. 

 

The Black Paladin of Voltron and the Altean Princess standing side by side would be the perfect symbol of power and freedom in the galaxy. 

 

Keith subconsciously looks for a soulmark he knows he won’t find.

 

“Keith, always glad to see our favorite Blade representative.” Shiro says, and Keith smiles back. 

 

“Bullshit.” Lance calls out, “We all know that Keith is here for food.”

 

Keith shrugs, and everyone laughs. Meals with the Blade of Marmora are strikingly similar to those served at the Garrison, and Keith has developed an unhealthy habit of stopping by for some of Hunk’s food. Kolivan knows, and when Keith leaves under the banner of “business”, he rolls his eyes and ignores him. 

 

“Lance.” Shiro says warningly, “Language.”

 

Everyone sits down, Shiro on Keith’s right, and Lance looks around. 

 

“Wait. No one else is going to deal with the fact that Shiro just said ‘language’?” Lance asks. 

 

“It just slipped out.” Shiro shrugs. 

 

Shiro’s arm rests behind Keith’s head, and Keith rests his head against Shiro’s bicep, a smile gracing his lips as Shiro’s fingers play with the ends of his hair. 

 

They get a few moments of peace, and Keith nods off. 

 

He should have known better. 

 

When he wakes up, Pidge is staring at him, eyes wide, with Lance at her side. 

 

They’re speechless, and Keith only discovers it when he goes back to the Blades outpost and looks in the mirror.

 

Blazing violet, starting from where Shiro’s must have grazed his neck, bleeding down Keith’s skin, meeting the once-faded soulmark.

 

He’s fucked. Utterly, totally fucked, but he presses his fingers against the new soulmark, the present connected to the past

 

When the tears escape his eyes, Keith doesn’t know if they’re from happiness or frustration. 

 

* * *

Shiro avoids him like the plague. 

 

Keith’s sure that it’s not necessarily him, but more of the purple decorating Keith’s left side. But the truth doesn’t dull the ache that spreads in Keith’s chest every single time Shiro brushes past him on the bridge, eyes glued to the floor in silent denial. 

 

Keith misses him. 

 

He gives Shiro space though, enough space for Shiro to recollect himself and think. 

 

Keith wanders up to the bridge while the rest of the paladins sleep, and though the Blade’s uniform is carefully tucked in his old room, Keith feels as though the suit’s still wrapped around him, creating the divide that separated him from Team Voltron in the first place. 

 

The doors open behind him, and Keith peers over his shoulder to see Shiro standing in the doorway. 

 

“You’re still here.”

 

It’s the most that Shiro has said to him in over a week, and Keith stands up, a tight smile decorating his face. 

 

“Yeah, I was just thinking. I’ll be going now.” Keith says, and he moves to slip past Shiro when he feels strong fingers wrap around his wrist. 

 

_ “Keith.” _

 

Shiro’s voice sounds almost pained and Keith keeps his gaze focused firmly on the familiar fingers wrapped around his wrist. It occurs to him then that maybe it wasn’t Shiro that was ignoring him all this time, but maybe Keith, and the thought makes him guiltier than he could have ever imagined. 

 

“Keith, why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“I didn’t want to lose you.”

 

Keith omits the implied  _ ‘again’ _ but it’s the honest truth. 

 

“So all this time, all these years, you knew- “

 

“I knew and I did nothing Shiro. I did nothing because being by your side would have been enough for me. It’s always been enough.”

 

The truth is painful. 

 

“Did you know before?”

 

Keith knows exactly what Shiro is asking, has always known, but he plays along, finally looking up to meet Shiro’s eyes. The grey of Shiro’s irises are milky with emotions and Keith shrugs. 

 

“Before what?”

 

“Before Kerberos.”

 

Keith also knows that Shiro knows the answer, because it’s clear in his face, in the way he bites his cheek in the desperate hope that maybe he’s wrong. 

 

“I’ve always known Shiro.”

 

The truth is crushing. 

 

Keith knows because he can feel it threatening to spill out of him, and Shiro lets go. 

 

“I was dead Keith.”

 

“But you didn’t die.”

 

“I might as well have.”

 

The truth never changes.

 

“I would’ve still waited for you.”

 

* * *

Shiro asks him to wait. 

 

So Keith waits. 

 

Waiting is hard, and Keith somehow wonders if this is his divine punishment for surviving.

 

It reaches a point where Keith thinks that maybe Shiro’s past thinking, and all the times he’s simply brushed past Keith is just rejection. 

 

Keith decides that he’s done waiting. 

 

He’s always been impatient, and when Keith stomps into Shiro’s room one night, Shiro is sitting on the edge of the bed, as if he was waiting for Keith the whole time. 

 

“Keith- ”

 

Keith cuts him off with a steely look, and Shiro simply sighs.

 

“You can’t avoid me forever Takashi. Not like this, not where our friends can see you cutting me off at every single opportunity, and I need to know whether or not you love me too because I need to know what to do.”

 

The flurry of words escapes Keith’s lips without a second thought, and Keith is met with silence. 

 

Shiro stares up at him with a peculiar look. 

 

“Shiro, I need to know.” Keith begs, and when Shiro stands up, wrapping his arms around Keith’s body, Keith thinks that maybe this is a hallucination. 

 

Then, Shiro’s lips meet his, and Keith can’t tell if he’s laughing or crying when Shiro whispers three beautiful words into his ear. 

 

* * *

They eventually get to go back home. 

 

Home for Keith meant the small desert shack where everything began, but for Shiro, home meant Earth, the whole planet, the only place where he was carefree. 

 

They stop by the desert shack, still abandoned, to pick up whatever was left of their belongings. 

 

It’s strangely calm when they re-assimilate into normal, domestic, civilian life, and Keith has to deal with the fact that if he walks around with a dagger strapped to his belt, he  _ will _ be pulled over, and that Shiro’s arm will set off every single possible alarm. 

 

They get married one night after they’ve had one drink too many and Keith points out the fact that Shiro’s never even mentioned the idea. It’s quick and simple, much like them, and once the officiant declares them husband and husband, Keith laughs and kisses Shiro like the world is ending. 

 

The next morning feels surreal, and when Keith walks out, clothed only in one of Shiro’s old, abysmal sweaters, he watches as Shiro pours him a cup of coffee, rich and black, and Keith accepts it along with a forehead kiss. 

 

“Do you regret it?” Keith asks only a few moments later, as he’s snuggled comfortably under Shiro’s arm. Shiro looks away from his tablet, most likely reading something that Allura has sent him, to shoot Keith a questioning look. 

 

“Regret what?”

 

“I don’t know.” Keith says simply, and Shiro chuckles. “The whole thing really. Kerberos, Voltron, all of it? Or even something more than that? The Garrison, joining the military, or any of it?”

 

“That’s deep.” Shiro comments. “Are you having a midlife crisis?” 

 

Keith snorts, because if anything, he’d be having an existential crisis, but he indulges Shiro, if only to sate his own curiosity. 

 

“Maybe. Answer the question Shirogane.”

 

Shiro is silent, and Keith peers up at him expectantly. 

 

“No, not really.”

 

The answer is too short, too simple, and Keith rolls his eyes at his husband. 

 

“Indulge me Takashi.”

 

Shiro sets down his tablet and lets out a long, exaggerated sigh. 

 

“Let’s think of it this way. I don’t go to Kerberos. I stay here, wait for you to be promoted. We get married, maybe adopt a kid or two. But no matter what, one of us would leave to go on missions, and someone else would have been captured by the Galra. We might have gotten a decade of peace before they invaded Earth too.” 

 

Keith hums in acknowledgement. 

 

“But that’s not what happened. Maybe we missed a few years of being together, or a few opportunities, but in the end, we saved the universe Keith. Thousands of planets, countless lives that can be happy because we gave up a little bit of our own happiness and time. So I guess I don’t regret it. We got a little hurt along the way, but we did what someone needed to do.”

 

Keith ponders Shiro’s response for a moment, and Shiro looks down at him. 

 

“You are the most self-actualized person in this universe. I married a fucking saint.” Keith declares. 

 

Shiro laughs, and when he reaches for his tablet again, Keith nestles himself comfortably against Shiro’s side. 

 

“I love you.” Keith says, and Shiro’s reply is the same as that night in the Castle, and the same as the night before. 

 

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> xoxo, mel
> 
> [Tumblr](http://fcllencngels.tumblr.com) | [Twitter](http://twitter.com/fcllencngels)


End file.
